


in moments unforgettable

by torasame



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Birthday Fluff, College, Established Relationship, Fluff, Future Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-27
Updated: 2020-09-27
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:48:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26672431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/torasame/pseuds/torasame
Summary: It’s hard to forget when Kuroo looks at him like he’s the only person in the vast universe, like he put all the stars in the sky. Breathing is hard, but affection comes a lot easier than it should. He was sure it had always been the other way around. Before Kuroo, that is.
Relationships: Kuroo Tetsurou/Tsukishima Kei
Comments: 2
Kudos: 57





	in moments unforgettable

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Tsukishima Day everyone.
> 
> I've tried to upload a million times, on both my phone and my laptop so let's hope this works. I'll do my best to upload more between school and a bunch of very introspective essays that threw me off course for a while. I have a lot of projects coming up, but they're much bigger so they may take some time but I'll do my best to get them out.
> 
> Anyways, here's krtsk indulgence to spoil Mr salt shaker because he could use a break from the endless angst shows he seems to be the star in. (This is attacking me as well, please pardon my inexperience im fluff.) I may or may not be referencing future fics (though mostly unconscious I swear) and ones I've already written. Wholehearted shoutout to my unofficially official Beta Cait for pulling me through this. 
> 
> Hope you all stay safe and have a good one. 
> 
> Title from: Sunday Morning by Maroon 5

When Tsukishima wakes up that morning, it isn’t to the sound of his seven am alarm, but rather to a soft kiss pressed against his temple and to quiet words.

“Hey, you’ll be late at this rate.” His eyes open but his vision remains unawake, though he knows one doesn’t need perfect vision to make out the silhouette of awful bed hair, or recognize the voice hovering above him.

“Tetsuro?” It comes out grating, it’s far too early by his standards and for a Sunday morning. He doesn’t have the liberty to be shocked like some cheap drama, but he is sure Kuroo wasn’t there when he crashed into bed last night. “Aren’t you supposed to be in Tokyo?”

The answer comes as a gentle press against his lips, “happy birthday.”

He’s a lot clearer up close, barely inches apart. Tsukishima reaches up to cup his cheek in his hand, running his thumb over Kuroo’s cheekbone and brushing aside a strand of hair with little luck tucking it away. He can make out the slight circles forming under Kuroo’s eyes, but he manages to overlook it under the weight of Kuroo’s gaze that makes it a little hard to remember things like breathing. It’s this same gaze, however, that reminds him of a day he typically tends to forget. It’s hard to forget when Kuroo looks at him like he’s the only person in the vast universe, like he put all the stars in the sky. Breathing is hard, but affection comes a lot easier than it should. He was sure it had always been the other way around. Before Kuroo, that is.

Tsukishima leans into Kuroo’s smile, wrapping his arms around his neck as Kuroo slowly shifts from standing over the bedside to kneeling over the mattress, pressing his chest against Tsukishima’s. There’s warmth in the midst of the oncoming autumn, from the light leaking from the gaps between the curtains and from the man held in his embrace. It’s a little too early to be awake for a Sunday, but Kuroo manages to make him overlook these things once more. It’s also far too easy to give in when their lips move in tandem against one another, featherlight and unhurried.

There are kisses planted on his cheek, the tip of his nose, his forehead and just beneath his jaw. Tsukishima’s laugh is breathless as he cards his fingers through the mess of dark hair. Kuroo moves to kiss him properly this time to which he happily complies. It’s languid in nature and blends into holding each other. Tsukishima nuzzles against Kuroo’s collarbone, there’s the scent of laundry detergent which (as far as he knows) seems to be specific to Kuroo alone. He feels the kisses on the crown of his head and the arms that wrap around around his torso. Tsukishima finds himself kissing Kuroo again.

“Hey,” he manages between pecks, “I’m going to be late.”

Kuroo’s laugh reverberates against his chest before he presses another kiss on the corner of Tsukishima’s lips. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you!”

He stumbles out of Kuroo’s arms, his feet finally making contact with the floor before he can sit up properly. His shoulders pop when he stretches, his arms falling limp by his sides before Kuroo hugs him from behind, burying his face into Tsukishima’s shoulder. It lingers, but Kuroo jumps off the bed, offering a hand to him.

“Come on, I made breakfast.”

“When?”

Kuroo turns back, feigning offence when they cross the threshold into the dining area. “My dear Kei, are you doubting my culinary abilities—”

“No,” he replies, “I mean what time you did it. Or better yet, when did you get here?”

“I got here not so long ago, maybe around half past six?” He scoffs lightheartedly when Kuroo pulls the seat out for him. “I got here much earlier than I expected so...” he returns from his short detour from the kitchen, “make a wish!”

A makeshift candle stands in a stack of pancakes topped with minimal whipped cream and strawberries. Laughter overtakes him, all the smiling is starting to hurt his cheeks. He takes a moment to pause, he’s never been the superstitious type, but it seems appropriate. He blows out the candles and Kuroo cheers. They divide the shares between themselves. Once everything settles, his senses return to him.

“Tetsuro.”

Kuroo makes a _hm_ sound through his mouthful of pancake. Tsukishima focuses on slicing his own share. “How long have you been up?”

He doesn’t miss a beat. Kuroo knows he doesn’t need to answer, Tsukishima’s already gone over the numbers. Arriving at six in the morning would mean departure at four with the addition to preparation time. “Work’s been pretty busy but it hasn’t been that bad.”

“You look like you’re going to pass out any minute.”

“And you’re still as amazing as ever.”

Tsukishima fights the heat creeping up his neck. He collects their emptied plates and stacks them into the kitchen sink. “You should get some more sleep.”

He accepts the body that leans into him and holds up Kuroo’s weight. “You’re too nice, you didn’t have to get here so early. I’ve got work.”

“I wanted to greet you first,” Kuroo mumbles into the shoulder of his jumper, “it’d suck for you to have to wake up alone on your birthday.”

“You’re insane,” he kisses the shell of Kuroo’s ear, “at least get some sleep while I’m gone.”

“I wanted to drive you to work,” it’s ridiculous, the position they’re in. Kuroo suddenly refuses to unwind his grip around Tsukishima’s waist, which leaves him wobbling them both forward and back into his bedroom. He laughs along the way, drowsiness drifting away. Kuroo finally does let go when he moves to gather his clothes before heading to the bathroom.

He takes a quick shower, dries himself off before throwing his clothes on and brushing his teeth. He finds Kuroo sitting cross legged on the bed, scrolling through his phone with his eyes threatening to droop closed every now and then. 

“Go to bed,” he says, checking his watch and calculating the time he has left. It’s not that bad, he can make it.

“If you won’t let me drive you, at least let me see you off.”

Tsukishima swipes the hair on his forehead aside to plant a clear kiss on his temple. “You would’ve caused an accident in the state you’re in.”

Kuroo hums in approval, “good luck with work today." There’s one more kiss on his lips.

“I love you.”

Tsukishima fails to overlook the fastidious beating in his chest. “You too.”

He leaves the room, crosses the living area, steps into his shoes and leaves the dorm with a smile he desperately attempts to shield when he makes it into the elevator.

-

It’s a short drive to the museum. He’s been working as of third year and will be officially employed once he’s graduated so his workload isn’t anything too bad. Then again, he wouldn’t be able to bring himself to label it in such a light either way. It’s not the grandest of occupations, it all just narrows down to his interest and enjoyment. Most people would term it as “something that makes him happy.” The statement stands, he doesn’t mind it.

His seniors diligently greet him and surprise him with small tokens just before their meeting. He thanks them in similar fashion and stores the gifts in his locker for the time being. He’s assigned to look over papers for a new exhibit being installed (for a new fossil installment which leads him to wonder if luck does exist or if the universe had decided to grace him that day.)

It’s quite a while before he checks his phone to be greeted with a barrage of notifications flooding over his home screen. He only manages to read and respond to the first few, namely Yamaguchi, Yachi, Akaashi, and Bokuto. Yamaguchi sends a length of messages and a post which was obviously designed by Yachi (it’s a joint effort more than anything else.) Akaashi leaves him an endearing text while Bokuto resigns to posting (spamming) his feed with the selfies he’s collected (demanded) from Tsukishima over the years. There’s a few polite ones from teammates from his days in Karasuno and a lot more from volleyball supporters (mainly attributed from Bokuto.)

Speaking of supporters, a few of them do show up while he helps out in making rounds around the museum and guiding the guests. He’s loaded with another armful of gifts and probably took enough pictures to fill a far much more of the internet than he’d like. He’s never gotten used to it though, with his tendency to have a “neutral face of displeasure” as someone (Yamaguchi) put it. His lips naturally tilt downwards, but the weight isn’t as prominent on that day.

_Have you eaten lunch?_ Is the text among the sea of greetings.

_You better have or else I'll have to storm there myself._

_You should see all the posts about you. Bokuto's comment section is hilarious!_

_(Tetsuro sent a photo)_

_'kya~ Tsukishima smiled in a picture' how cute!_

" _Please stop stalking me,"_ is what he texts back.

_So have you eaten lunch?_

_Yes, I have._

_And you?_

_Of course!_

_And have you slept?_

_I passed out like a light._

_A woke up a little after to make lunch._

_Your break must be over soon, go shoo!_

_I'll keep fawning over the many pictures of the handsome Tsukishima Kei~_

His coworkers ask if he's texting his girlfriend (as they do ever so often and refuse to believe him when he denies it.) He’s taken to keeping the answer ambiguous which prompts them to ask about what “she’s” like. It’s kind of funny, now that he thinks of it, when they ask about “her” defining qualities and he blurts out about the quick wit underneath the mess of hair and the constant influx of texts he receives at unholy hours of the morning.

“She sounds very intellectual,” they comment, “it must be tough in a long distance relationship.”

The past five or so years catch up to him then. It’s like a silent flash of lightning in his mind. There's an imaginary statement that hangs at the end of those words: _how do you make it work?_ He's overthinking it, surely, but that doesnt stop the idea from making its way home. The thoughts linger, but he nods along before he wanders back to work.

He's walking back in time, essentially. In a figurative manner that it is. He trots past fossils, bones and preserved artifacts, drawing further and further away from the present— but his mind hasn't gone that deep into history. He recalls the events that led to their strange companionship. How their unconventional friendship gave him something to look forward to each day. He wonders when he had figured it out, how he had put two and two together and mustered the courage to confess his thoughts to Kuroo in person. 

Someone stops to ask him for directions, he points them to walk straight ahead and take the closest right. He’s done with his own rounds but he lingers, opting to stand by the glass wall to stare somewhere further past the sky before his phone vibrates in his pocket, snapping him out of his reverie.

_Do you wanna go out for dinner?_

Another smile creeps up on him. His introspection hits a run down hill but he does not move to follow it. In hindsight, their relationship was never something difficult to maintain. They moved with one another, fitting past the obstacles in their own ways and evolving together. That’s what it was with them, so similar and different in little ways, both methods of the same type of madness. With Tetsuro it’s always something new, it’s always strange ideologies to question and new perspectives to look through. It’s seemingly last minute plans that always manage to work, it’s casual debates, new novels on his shelf. It’s taking a two and a half hour train before the morning has even woken up to surprise him on his birthday. It’s the inconsistent consistency in his life with Kuroo Tetsuro.

_Sure, I’ll be back after practice_

The reply comes seconds after.

_See you soon_

When his shift ends, he (somehow) transports all the gifts into his car by three and makes it to the college gym a few minutes before practice is scheduled to start. He changes before joining Kyoutani for warm-up stretches. Small-talk isn't their thing, but a steady conversation settles in before Koganegawa crashes into the gym, making it just in time (though he and Kyoutani alternate in saying otherwise to scare him.)

"It's the birthday boy!" Tsukishima almost rolls his eyes until he notices the team gathering around him. He turns to Kyoutani for answers and the man shrugs.

"He asked to be the signal," Kyoutani says, "though one would think the signal would be a little earlier than the rest of us."

There's a round of happy birthday (Tsukishima cuts them off before they can even attempt it in English), before practice resumes. He partners with Kyoutani for receiving, keeping the ball between them along with their prematurely cut conversation from earlier. Koganegawa joins in beside them, sharing laughs that surprisingly don't come from him. He's pulled (half bullied, half compliant) into blocking practice. He moves with the current, he lets it carry him, but it's much different than how he used to let it.

Once he had waited for it to drift him back to shore, sometimes standing in the shallow waters to weave his way past the waves and the sand. It was lethargic, empty, with the imminent danger of washing away into the distant sea and to drown. Now he sees the sky. It isn't always morning. Sometimes he looks up and the sky is blue, the clouds are travelling and the sun is bright. Other times it's just clear. But today, just like most days, the sky is littered in stars. He knows better not to swim at night (it's his fear of sharks) so he sits and lets the waters brush against his legs while he connects celestial dots.

The ball hits the ground and Koganegawa cries out. But Tsukishima barely registers it. His gaze is fixed on the moon, bluer than the ocean below. 

_Focus your power at the tips of your fingers._

He smiles. He isn't alone on the shore.

"Your blocks are still as nasty as ever!" Konegawa exclaims, throwing an arm over his shoulders. "Tsukishima! Do you have any plans today? Let's have a team dinner!"

"I do have plans, actually," Tsukishima says, ducking away and itching towards the changing rooms. "Maybe some other time. I apologize."

The sand melts at his feet, he stands, and he runs. He showers, changes and makes it outside to the white noise of rain hitting the roof over the parking lot.

He makes it up the elevator, brisk walking to the door, pushing it open once his key clicks.

"I'm home," he says, gifts in hand.

Kuroo is no longer in his red highschool jersey and shorts. He's clad in a casual suit without a tie and it makes Tsukishima feel a little conscious of his spare change of dri fit and joggers. And yet, Kuroo still looks at him as though he had put all those stars in the sky.

"Welcome home."

"You're dressed up," Tsukishima points out.

"And you've got plenty of admirers," Kuroo takes the gifts he hasn't been able to fit in his gym bag, "should I be jealous?"

Tsukishima caves and kisses him.

"I certainly hope you didn't kiss anyone else like this today," he swats him on the shoulder after slipping off his trainers.

"Of course not," he can't help the honesty. But Kuroo doesn't mind it. "You've had far too much free time, you've let your imagination run wild."

"You should see your fanbase," Kuroo chuckles. He lets Tsukishima wander into his room for a change of attire.

"I sense the jealousy isn't directly connected to me," he opens a cabinet for a dress shirt, picking one out with a trenchcoat. He pauses, turning to Kuroo who stands by the doorway. 

"I promise it's not some big fancy restaurant that cost my liver," Kuroo says, knowing, "though it is what you deserve on your birthday."

He's sure Kuroo could afford it without the cost of his liver, but they both know he would've lost a lot more than that (at the hands of someone Tsukishima will not name.) 

As he pulls out a set of trousers, Kuroo turns around, directing his attention to his phone. Tsukishima can't help but shake his head and heave a quiet laugh. Kuroo turns back as he's buttoning his shirt and goes to help him with his blazer. 

"Do I get to drive now?" Tsukishima reaches to run a thumb over the area beneath Kuroo's eye. He feigns contemplation before handing the keys into an outstretched hand.

They catch up a little more on the car ride to the restaurant, they fill in the gaps between their regular calls and for the day in general. Kuroo tells him about stories from work which prompts Tsukishima's insistence on him getting more sleep. When Kuroo pouts about it, Tsukishima retorts that it was all due to his own influence. But he gets it and doesn't push it too far. It's notoriously difficult to get into the JVA, sometimes he isn't entirely sure how Kuroo managed to survive the months leading up to his application. It's his second year of work and despite all the signs of sleeplessness on him, it's as though the rain outside isn't pouring at all.

The restaurant seems busy, but it's more of an organized mess. He's probably passed it one or two times and it's a little bit fancier than he expects. Kuroo closes their shared umbrella once inside, leaving it in the designated rack while Tsukishima hovers beside him.

"I hope you don't mind guests," before Tsukishima can even question it, he's tackled in a bruising hug from behind.

"Akiteru!"

"Happy birthday little brother!" He's much taller than him now so it's a lot more of a bend on his part when he's headlocked into a hair ruffle. "You were absolutely right Kuroo, he was clueless!"

"What on earth are you talking about?" He demands after he's managed to break free, flattening whatever mess his brother had created while Kuroo laughs beside him.

"You didn't suspect a thing! You didn't even look for your older brother to greet you a happy birthday." It's a new voice and a new figure approaching them. 

"Mum," Tsukishima says as she moves to wrap her arms around him. She has to tiptoe to kiss him on the cheek.

"Happy birthday Kei," she goes to embrace Kuroo in a similar manner that never fails to give him some sense of vertigo. "You did an excellent job, Tetsuro."

It's almost comforting to see Kuroo grow sheepish, "thank you Mrs Tsukishima."

"You were none the wiser," Akiteru comments. "Too preoccupied with the boyfriend I see."

"Wouldn't it be a given for you to greet your beloved little brother? If anything it's your failed sense of responsibility." He lets Akiteru pull him into a side hug. 

"But I guess it did work for the surprise," he and Akiteru remain that way as they walk down aisles of tables while their mother chats animatedly with Kuroo. 

"I don't like surprises."

"Then you're probably going to hate what's coming next—"

They stop in a hallway intersection between another room of diners. Their mother is now standing beside a man dressed in a three piece suit with the blonde hair Tsukishima had inherited. 

" _Dad,"_ the switch between languages is unconscious. His father steps closer to him and stands at about the same height. He claps him on the shoulder before pulling him into an embrace.

" _Happy Birthday Kei,_ " it's the unmistakable English accented voice that read him his bedtime stories, the same voice that narrated each case from _Sherlock Holmes_ to him and Akiteru during the holidays. He and his brother hadn't inherited the distinct diction with their own English leaning on a very neutral place between British and American. The whiplash of hearing it so profoundly really brings the years along with it.

" _It's been so long! Look how tall you've gotten, you're probably a little taller than me now."_

_"I doubt it,"_ he says, his father's attention is directed to Kuroo.

" _This must be the infamous Kuroo Tetsuro I keep hearing about,"_ Kuroo takes the outstretched hand in a steady handshake. "It's great to finally meet you in person."

He gives Kuroo credit for not taking a moment longer to process like everyone else usually did, "The pleasure is all mine, Mr Tsukishima." Kuroo bows once they've separated, his father moves to mirror the action.

"Thank you for taking care of my son."

Kuroo responds and doesn't fail to make Tsukishima's heart plant itself in his throat. "Thank you for trusting me to do so."

Akiteru pats him on the back a little too hard when they get moving into their own private area. Tsukishima almost freezes like a statue on the spot.

"Tetsuro—"

"Tsukki!" The ever familiar nickname from an ever familiar face. The exclamation spreads like a wildfire across the few dozen tables filled with friends and teammates. That's when the singing and clapping starts. Tsukishima unconsciously shuffles behind Akiteru, ever unsure on how to react to any of this. Once the singing stops, there's a final cheer before he bows before everyone and finally manages to interrogate Kuroo.

Though he isn't entirely sure if his mess of stammering could be considered an interrogation. Kuroo laughs it off, keeping him close as they navigate through the guests who've come to greet him. The attention isn't as fixated on him as it drags on (which he is unspokenly grateful for.)

"When did you plan this?" He finally manages to construct coherently.

"It didn't take that long. Everyone was more than willing to participate."

"It's true!" Yamaguchi arrives on cue, locking him into a side hug. "The look on your face was totally worth it."

He leans down to return the embrace Yachi moves to give him. She keeps both him and Yamaguchi in place. "I'm so glad it's finally here! It was so difficult to keep it from you!"

"I wouldn't have minded the showcase of loyalty, Yachi." She sticks her tongue out at him.

"You need to warm up to surprises more, Tsukishima. They're a lot more fun."

"Ah! Look at our cute underclassmen, Daichi! They're all so grown up now."

"Sugawara!" Yamaguchi and Yachi chime in at the same time

Sugawara reaches up to ruffle his hair (he's given up on trying to fix it at this point), Karasuno's former captain slaps him on the back and offers his greetings.

"I'm surprised you decided to come," Tsukishima tells Daichi, with an implication directed at a cheeky looking Kuroo.

"I had to ensure the safety of my underclassman."

He gets out of the way of Daichi and Kuroo's inevitable bantering to greet his teammates. "You were in on it as well?"

Koganegawa pouts, spreading his arms out in exaggeration, "you never have plans!"

Kyoutani shrugs, "he's got a point."

"But it must be so cool to have such a close friend like Kuroo! You guys must have a very good bond." No one catches what he doesn't leave out in the open. Tsukishima handles it with ease.

"Yeah, he was my mentor back in first year. We've become pretty good friends."

He passes through a few more interactions before everyone settles for dinner. He's at a seat with his family, Kuroo, Yamaguchi and Yachi. They trade stories from the past (some to Tsukishima's dismay.) He and his father get to talk a little more about business trips and current events both in Japan and the UK.

"Sorry to interrupt but I've got a certain someone on a call right now," Tsukishima excuses himself and leans to view Kuroo's phone and is met by the sight of large owl-like eyes and salt and pepper hair. 

" _Hey hey hey! Tsukki! Happy birthday!"_ There's an orange blur that materializes beside him.

_"Bokuto! Is that Kuroo— oh! Tsukishima! It's your birthday!"_

"Hello Bokuto and shrimp."

" _I thought you'd be a lot nicer on your birthday, especially since Kuroo went all the way from Tokyo to see you! Look! He got flustered! Bokuto do you see this?"_

"We should hang up right now," Kuroo laughs when there is a resounding digital wail of "no" from the call. They chat a little longer with Kageyama somehow eventually joining the call from his own end and greeting Tsukishima without a trace of malice (a miracle), but it ends with a heated argument between the freak duo which does indeed lead Kuroo and him to make quick farewells to Bokuto before ending it.

Somewhere in the evening, Kuroo excuses himself for the bathroom which leaves the Tsukishimas at the table with the addition of Yamaguchi and Yachi migrating to the Karasuno table to entertain former schoolmates.

" _I'm proud of you, son,"_ it's a very sudden turn from the light-hearted atmosphere that was set. It's also a little foreign coming from his father, given that he's been told to have taken from him while Akiteru took on from their mother. His father has always been very intellectual and practical given his role as businessman in Europe. Affection, per say, was expressed in gifts, compliments on work ethic and suggestions on moving forward.

" _That's quite sudden,"_ he says honestly.

" _I guess I never do say it often, but it doesn't change the fact that I truly am. You've grown up to be a fine young man, Kei. You seem a lot happier now."_

His mother reaches for his hand over the table. "You've grown up well."

"That's a very polite way of saying I've aged," it diffuses the air a bit and gets a laugh or two. " _I've had people who've helped me on the way."_ He finds the Karasuno table who are engrossed in a retelling by Tanaka who is reenacting quite theatrically. He looks at Yamaguchi, Yachi, his upper and underclassmen. He thinks of Hinata and Kageyama. His eyes wander over the faces of most of the people he's gone up against, those he has grown with and those who remain with him now. He sees Kuroo, conversing with a group near the bathroom, with his blinding smile and charm on full display.

" _Dad approves of him,"_ Akiteru says, " _you already know big brother does as well. He's good for you, Kei. And you're good for him."_

" _He's very sweet,"_ his mother adds to the quiet and discreet conversation in English. " _He's very dedicated. I've told you this so many times but I'm very glad you chose him."_

A few years ago, he wouldn't have even imagined this conversation. A few years ago, he was grappling with the strange sensation of anticipation and longing when he and Kuroo had mainly kept to chatting because of the distance. He never really drabbled on matters like love. It was more of a process of internalization rather than a feeling.

He had never felt the pull of attraction to anyone and there wasn't a moment of butterflies and heart fluttering. It was the gradual discoveries he made, the slow process of excavation before he finally put the pieces together. He found it in Kuroo's ever sharp wit, in his seemingly provocative exterior partnered with his unconscious care for others. He found it in their shared sense of humour, in their inexistent need for constant emotional reassurance. He could have back and forth discussions with him about the grandest theories or the smallest of details. He could shiver and Kuroo would immediately offer his jacket. He could tell him about the things he couldn't even admit to himself and Kuroo replied in absolute transparency. He found it in how Kuroo recalled the smallest things he had said or the interests he'd shown. He'd found care he hadn't expressed to a person in the longest time.

He never imagined being able to openly express it to anybody other than Kuroo, let alone his family and especially his father. It wasn't the easiest journey, but they've come this far. He's shown them parts of the pieces and is still digging, still discovering more about the little things.

" _He seems very well versed. He's responsible, hard-working and he's a very good fit for someone I'd have imagined you to be with,"_ his father offers a smile. " _Keep him very close."_

His throat goes dry, he takes a sip of wine. " _I will."_

When Kuroo returns to the seat beside him, he reaches to intertwine their fingers under the table. Kuroo looks at him, his eyes silently asking _are you alright?_ To which he responds with a soft smile that says enough.

The dinner ends with a grand thank you and bidding farewell to all the guests that attended. He's given a year's worth of hugs and loses count of how much he's had to drink. He leaves with an arm on Kuroo's shoulders and a hand on his waist, carrying his body weight through the hall alongside his family. He isn't drunk so he presumes tipsy might be the better term.

He vaguely recalls the plans he makes with his family before they part ways by the parking lot. Kuroo has collected their umbrella but doesn't move to use it since the rain had long stopped. Kuroo guides him into the passenger's side, securing his seatbelt before getting into the driver's seat. He stubbornly remains awake until they stumble into the apartment complex. He can stand well on his own, but Kuroo never moves more than an arm's length from him (though he does half cling onto his arm for the duration of the trip upstairs.)

Kuroo offers to let him wash up first, standing by the bathroom door in case he needs anything. He does so, holding on to the shower handles when the world begins shifting periodically, but he makes it in one piece. He changes and lets Kuroo in while he dries up and brushes his teeth. He moves out once Kuroo runs a shower, flopping onto his bed and throwing on the red hoodie Kuroo discarded. It's not that long on him, but he imagines it was a little bigger on third year Kuroo. Like most of Kuroo's clothes, he can't seem to fit the shoulders right (surprisingly.)

The mattress sinks when Kuroo lays in the space beside him. It's then that he throws his arms around him and presses their lips together. It's no drunken frenzy, it's just constantly reaching for the other person, the constant need to fill whatever space is left in between. Kuroo rolls over to hover over him, pressing him against the pillow and kissing him until he's content.

He pulls away to laugh, his arms are wrapped securely around Kuroo's neck.

"You're too good for me," he says, "you're far too good for me y'know? And I love you a lot."

Kuroo chuckles, "I love you too, Kei."

"I like how smart you are. I think you're a lot smarter than me. You work very hard and you need to rest sometimes. You're probably one of the most amazing people I know but you don't give yourself enough credit for it." He goes on, without filter, he's tipsy maybe going on drunk and maybe he won't remember this tomorrow. But Kuroo will and he has so much he needs to tell him.

"It's hard to look away when you laugh, I always think about wanting to make you smile. I like how you like the books I do, and how you mark all the quotes you find important with paper tabs and how you use photographs as bookmarks."

"You're always so thoughtful and you're far too nice even though you rarely see yourself as such. You always do all these grand things for me and it makes me feel very special to you and that makes me happy and I don't think I could thank you enough."

"I like how you listen to the songs I tell you to, I like how you make the effort to understand them. I like how you're always there for your friends when they need it and how you would drop everything to listen to them. I like how you remember the small things like how my favourite colour is purple and how I only read books with a certain kind of writing."

"You're competent, diligent and dedicated. You're the embodiment of all the good things in my life and so much more. I wonder how you look at me like I put all the stars up in the sky and yet never see yourself as the one person who could make the moon turn blue. You look at me like I'm the entire universe rolled into one and I want you to know that that's what you are to me as well."

"Sometimes I think you have the galaxies in your eyes and an endless world in your mind. I know that you find it hard to commit yourself to something you want so much because you think you've been cursed with bad luck. I like it when you smile, but I will always love you even if you can't bring yourself to. Even if the galaxies draw further away, I will do everything I can to find them again."

There is a prolonged silence where Kuroo just stares at him, golden eyes lost in deep thought. Kuroo leans to kiss him again.

"I thought it was supposed to be your birthday."

"It is, but it wouldn't be right to have you exert all the effort. You've done so much for me today and I'm happier than I've been in a while and it's thanks to you."

There's a flush on Kuroo's cheeks and it makes him look far more endearing than he should. There's nothing to be said. He tugs Kuroo onto his side and embraces him then, tucking his head beneath Kuroo's chin and kissing the base of his throat.

"I want to marry you one day." He's close enough to feel the heartbeat against his own chest. Kuroo brings him closer.

"Sure, Kei, I'd like that."

"Thank you."

Kuroo kisses the crown of his head, "what for?"

"For being more than I deserve. For being you and for this birthday. It's the best one yet."

"I'll be sure to make it better next year," Kuroo sits up a bit to pull the covers over them. "It's pretty late, you're intoxicated and you need sleep."

"I don't want this day to end."

"I promise there will be more like it, far better days."

"Okay."

"Get some sleep, Kei."

He whispers his parting words for the night onto Kuroo's skin before the night overtakes him.

When Tsukishima Kei falls asleep, he dreams for the first time in a long one. He sees something like eternity with Kuroo by his side and thinks the prospect of it isn't as far-fetched after all— but that's a thought to act on for another time.

**Author's Note:**

> My partly British Tsukishima agenda is being pushed onto you please accept it or turn the other way. His father is Japanese and British but I haven't worked out the specifics but it's out there yes boom great amazing. If you (somehow) haven't listened to Sunday Morning then please do, it fits the vibe. I somehow manage to coorelate my fics with songs which also isn't a conscious thing.
> 
> Hope you all enjoyed and thank you for reading. Stay safe and wear a mask and yeah take care of yourselves. Until next time.


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